Meteorite samples weren’t unusual, per say, but this was my first time dealing with one. Exciting for sure, but also nerve-wracking. The bosses were strict about anything from space- even the smallest misstep could lead to your reassignation to a lower, dingier job. So. No pressure or anything. The sample I’d gotten was small, just a speck really, especially compared to what Alice, at desk 9, had. But everyone had to start somewhere, right? So the speck it was.
I’ve worked at the lab for a good 3 years now. 3 years before I finally got to do what I’d always wanted. 3 years to achieve my greatest dreams. I’d spent all morning fiddling with the microscope, knowing that if I messed this up, I’d miss my opportunity. For good. And that…that would be awful.
When the sample was finally delivered to my station, I had to physically hold myself back to not tear open the packaging. Careful…careful. This thing is worth more than your entire life. The meteorite sample I’d gotten was barely a shard, but it was enough. My hands shook as I carefully lifted the sample out of its package and set it on a slide, placing it under the microscope. As I adjusted the lens, twisting it ever so carefully to zoom into the rugged surface of the rock, something that looked almost like words caught my eye. But…surely not. How could there be English words on an outerspace rock? But as the lens panned across the meteorite, it was clear- words carved deep into the rock: “If you see this, call this number. Do not tell anyone”.
My hands shook. But in my mind, there was only one thing for me to do- call the number.